


Synchronicity

by Arbryna



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Introspection, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t love him. Not the way she loved Dyson, the way she still loves Lauren. It’s more than that, and less—it’s <i>different</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synchronicity

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist trying to get inside Bo's head this past season...so here's an attempt at exploring that missing time on the train.

“That’s not living.”

It starts in that moment, there in that train car. Bo looks at Rainer, and for the first time she sees _him_ —not the angry, manipulative kidnapper she thought he was, but the frustrated victim of a curse that he doesn’t understand. A curse that she’s somehow gotten caught up in.

A curse that, maybe, she can save him from.

***

He speaks to her of what he remembers of his life, of his fight against tyranny. Even after a thousand years, a fragile spark of hope still flares in his eyes when he tells her of his dream for a better world.

Her heart aches to think that a thousand years later, the Fae are as divided as ever. At the same time, she can’t help but get swept up in the image his words paint—a world without Light and Dark, where the Fae are united and at peace. A world where she can define herself, instead of others doing it for her.

It’s that dream as much as her hunger that drives her to kiss him, that first time. It’s her blood pumping through her veins and the crackle of his aura as he speaks impassioned words of freedom and justice. He looks at her with a strange, guarded wonder when they part for breath; she smiles and pulls him back in, eyes flaring blue as she reaches for the hem of his shirt.

***

When the train comes to its first stop, Bo has to make a choice.

This is her chance to leave, to get back to her friends and her family and her life—and god knows it’s complicated enough as it is.

But if she leaves, she’ll forget. She won’t remember Rainer, or his dream. He’ll remain here, cursed, forgotten, and she’ll never even know that she could have saved him.

Can she, though? Is she strong enough? There is strength in her, she can feel it, but it’s not completely _hers_. Parts of it are jagged, tearing at her insides little by little, wearing away at the identity she’s tried to make for herself.

She doesn’t know what draws her to that car in particular. She can’t begin to comprehend how this beautiful creature can be the same one she held in her hands as a little girl. Her heart leaps into her throat when it comes alive again at her touch, wings shimmering bright blue even in the dim light of the car.

For so long her touch meant only death. To see it give life is…humbling. She feels altogether too large for her skin, like this power she possesses is bigger than she could hope to understand.

The moment feels heavy, surreal—somehow more vivid and clear than reality. He tells her to go, and she almost does—but something holds her back, some magnetic pull drags her back to that car.

When they crash together, lips and hands and quick panting breaths, a strange calm settles over Bo. It’s as though all the sharp edges inside of her have smoothed out, just for that moment.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but whatever it is, it feels _right_.

***

Everything feels different here, like they’re removed from time itself, like the rest of the world has ceased to exist. She asks about her friends often, thinks about them even more, but they feel so _distant_.

Rainer is here, and solid, and real. His dream is a tangible thing; it wraps around them as they sleep, sparks in the sweat between their bodies. When Bo feeds from him, she gains so much more than chi—she tastes his hope, his conviction, and they strengthen her own.

She doesn’t love him. Not the way she loved Dyson, the way she still loves Lauren. It’s more than that, and less—it’s _different_. She loves what he stands for, loves the world he wants to create for the Fae. She loves the sense of purpose that has taken root in her bones, the feeling that for the first time in her life, she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.

When the marks appear on their chests, it feels like a sign. A symbol reinforcing the fact that for better or worse, their fates are entwined.

Bo never cared much for destiny. She’s always bristled at being told her path, always fought against prophecy and fate and rules.

But that was all before she felt destiny’s inexorable pull. Before she stepped on this train and it became far easier to accept the overwhelming feeling that everything would be okay if she just gave in.

It’s not like that first time, years ago, when the pain-eater invaded her mind. It’s not some foreign outside influence, clawing at the threads holding her together—it comes from inside her, from a place deep within that she’s barely begun to scratch the surface of. Giving in this time doesn’t mean accepting defeat; it means choosing to reach for a victory she hardly thought possible.

Only it feels more than possible, now. When Rainer touches her, when he looks at her with all the intensity of a thousand years of frustrated dreaming, it feels inevitable.

***

She doesn’t expect it to be easy, when she finally makes it back to the train and breaks Rainer’s curse. She knows it will be hard to explain, that she’ll face some resistance from her loved ones, but this just feels so _right_ —she’s sure they’ll understand if she can just find the right words.

In hindsight, “He’s my destiny” was probably not the right place to start. She has a tendency to get carried away, to expect the enthusiasm that bursts from her every pore to be reciprocated in kind.

They don’t. They argue, and yell, and fight. They accuse her of being brainwashed, accuse Rainer of being the nefarious villain she once thought he was, before she learned differently.

She wants them to be happy for her. Wants them to feel the _rightness_ that has settled deep in her bones, to see that this is the only choice she could have made.

Even if that certainty is becoming clouded, the longer she’s off that train. As the memories come back, as their quest becomes clear, Bo feels that steely resolve soften and melt around the edge. Whatever magic made that train run, that showed her with startling clarity what she needed to do, its hold is weaker here.

It’s not that the feelings weren’t real. They’re still real, still there, but now they’ve been joined by all the confusion of the real world, all of the complexities of her trainwreck of a love life.

In a way, she’s relieved that they don’t get it. It’s frustrating, and lonely, but at least she can focus on what needs to be done. She wishes they could be with her on this, wants the support that they’ve always provided in abundance, but if they can’t—or won’t—understand why she has to do this, then maybe it’s better to distance them now.

Some things are bigger than love, than friendship, than happiness. Her and Rainer are going to change the world—to make it safe for every Fae to choose their own path.

She finally understands what it means to be a hero, a champion. To put the needs of the world ahead of her own. She can accept being alone, being unhappy—she’s been there before, after all, been through worse than this—if it means giving everyone else the right to pursue their _own_ happiness.

Together, she and Rainer have a chance to do just that--and that's more important than anything else.


End file.
